


Left Below

by marquiseCubert



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Angst, Apocalypse, Diary/Journal, Family Issues, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Female Character, Loss of Parent(s), No Smut, doomed canon timeline, i kill people sometimes so watch out, important characters/pairings are added as it goes along
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-22
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-08-24 01:33:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8351107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marquiseCubert/pseuds/marquiseCubert
Summary: It is the story of a girl left in the shadow of a pegasus' wings. It is the story of the journal of a dead man. This is the story of everything that was left below when they left for good.





	1. The Time Capsule

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Fight or Flight](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/236920) by LadyCubert128 (myself). 



Ravaged buildings overlook the cobbled city streets, their once proud facades crumbled to the ground like fallen nobility.

Rubble and refuse crowds the city streets as tipped carriages mark the roads where the living once were, their contents gutted and shells cast aside.

A grey mist sinks into the abandoned capital as old ash floats aimlessly through the wind.

The war is over, but nobody is celebrating.

 

YLISSTOL, A.L. REGINA V

 

The sound of footsteps broke the gloomy silence as they dodged the bricks and planks of wood littering the streets. The clanking of metal cut into the air while a softer step followed behind. Two girls walked the empty road, armed and cautious.

The stage set here was a mundane one for the two sisters, as it had been for the past few years. The stillness in the air hid a restless anxiety that had come and plagued everyone that was left in this husk of a world. The ones who were still alive were only so by virtue of their will to live, and even that will was slowly seeping into the silence that shrouded the cries of the long deceased.  Their only hope of staying alive for the others was to rummage through the ruins and find what had been discarded and lost by a dead civilisation. It was late in the afternoon, and they were still empty handed.

The tall girl's name was Severa, a brash, lanky, and pale sixteen-year-old swordswoman. She carried herself in a somewhat slumpish way, but was certainly more capable than the average mummified barbarian that roamed the otherwise empty roads. She lectured her sister.

"Gods, Morgan, you've gotta stop being so cocky if you're supposedly our tactician now. Everybody's counting on you and here you are, almost getting killed."

"Sorry, sis." said Morgan, the younger girl. She was stout, fire-haired, and bright-eyed. "I only thought that... well, why would anybody be attacking this place? Sure this place would've been a great place to attack say, five years ago when there were lots of important people living here, but now? It's deserted."

Severa rolled her eyes. "We've been looking for supplies for hours and what have we found? Nothing. We should just give up and go back. This place is obviously a hotspot for Risen too, so that doesn't help either. We're done here."

Risen, the name given to the mysterious soldiers that had returned from the dead. They were all anonymous, rotten cadaver faces disfigured beyond recognition. Barely even human anymore, nobody was ever certain as to whether this made them more or less frightening. Nobody even knew where they came from. Only that they were dangerous.

Morgan looked at her older sister, the only family she had left. The two of them were resilient, but they were still only mortal. They had to look elsewhere.

She sighed. "Let's go," she muttered.

The two girls made their way through the empty town, the city's crumbling great wall looming over them. Severa could see the different coloured bricks making up the ruined wall. It was rebuilt a few years before she was born, as her parents told her, after the Grimleal had first invaded. The wall was destroyed again when the risen sacked the capital, but this time nobody had bothered to rebuild it, the most anybody could do at that point was abandon their homes, hoping that the risen wouldn't kill them and their families if they were in hiding.

Severa glanced over at her sister as they passed the grey buildings. "I guess we'll have to tell the others that there's nothing here. How the hell are we going to do that?" She pondered.

"Hey, hang on a second, look!" Morgan chimed. She ran over to something.

"Wait, what? What is it?" Severa frantically shouted as she caught up. Her heart pounded. Not only would they find supplies, but she'd actually have something to show Lucina for once. "Spit it out, girl!"

"Hah, we are on Lewyn Avenue! I knew something seemed familiar about this place."

Severa stopped. "...So...?"

"Lewyn Avenue! You know, where... where we used to live..."

"Lewyn Ave--" Severa's face fell. "Oh no... you're not thinking..." She felt something rising in her chest.

"I mean, I'm just saying, we know where everything is already, provided it hasn't been looted..."

"Gods dammit, Morgan, we don't have time for a nostalgic romp through memory lane! We've gotta get back to camp before sundown, remember?"

"I know we do, but I have there's a really good chance that we might find something of value there. You know how much we hate coming back empty handed."

Severa stammered. "Y-yeah, but..."

"Severa. we need to put that old stuff behind us. Our parents are dead, end of story. I don't let it bother me. I only see a possible advantage that we might have and dammit, I'm going to take advantage of it."

Severa looked up ahead, silent and unmoving.

"You can head back to camp all alone if that's what you want to do, sis. Like you said, the place is teaming with Risen." She started to walk down the road. "I, on the other hand, am going to go to our childhood house and see if I can find some gear." Severa knew that her sister knew exactly how to break her. Nobody in their right mind would set out alone when the Risen could be lurking anywhere.

Morgan smiled. "Our parents had some nice things, Sev, maybe even things that would just make a certain blue haired girl think you're the cat's pyjamas..." She raised her eyebrows.

She scowled. "Shut up."

Morgan laughed as they walked down the street. "You know, it's really easy to tell when you're blushing, sis."

"I am SO not blushing." Severa's face was red as a tomato. She paused and smiled. "At least I don't have the hots for her dopey cousin."

"What??"

The faint sun rolled west over the blanket of clouds as the shadows on the ground grew longer with each passing minute.

* * *

 

Soon, they stopped in front of a house.

It was nestled next to many other houses of a similar design and size, standing three narrow storeys tall. It was one of the more well-to-do neighbourhoods in the capital back in its day, but now the houses around were practically reduced to rubble. One would only step inside if they had a death wish. Interestingly, this particular house was in relatively good shape. The windows were shattered and some of the moulding was broken and weathered, but nothing compared to the absolute ruin surrounding it.

Ten years ago, it would have looked like any other house. A house that any father, mother, and two daughters could have lived together in. The father a successful merchant or craftsman perhaps, the mother a caring housewife, the children happy and loved. Each night they would eat dinner, talk about their day, and kiss each other goodnight. However, when the mother is a commander and the father is a tactician, suddenly this turns a daughter's happiness into nothing short of a pipe dream.

"Well, this is it." said Morgan.

Severa sighed. "I can't believe you talked me into this."

"I can." she teased. Severa didn't take this very well this time.

"Well, whatever, let's just look inside and get this over with."

Morgan walked over to the door. She pulled on the handle. "Hmm, it's locked." She told her sister.

"Well, wouldn't you know! We can't get in. Now let's get back before the sun goes down." Severa insisted.

"Hang on! There's a spare key somewhere, remember?"

"Ugh, sweet Naga, you are one persistent thing, aren't you?"

"Oh, look who's talking, Sev!" she jeered. "Here, help me lift up this stone. It's a marvel that this place is still intact, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so," she said. She pointed towards the ground. "Uh, it's under the other one, Morgan."

"Shoot, you're right, sorry. Good thing you still remember." They lifted the stone out from the path. Morgan dug through the dirt. "But yeah, it really does seem strange that this is the only house on the block that hasn't been turned into a glorified pile of bricks. Don't you find that curious?"

"Eh, not really."

She stood up. "Well, at least you're being honest, I suppose." She held up a small key, "Here we are! Skeleton key, unlocks any door in the house. This should help us get into any storages that we might have."

"What would they have even been storing, anyway?"

"I don't know... Preserved food? Medicine?"

"You really think our parents were ones for canning food?" Severa laughed.

"Hey, you never know!" She put the key into the hole. She had to put in a bit of effort before she could quite fit it in. "A little rusty..." She muttered.

The lock clicked as she turned the key and the door opened with a slight hesitation. A musty smell filled the area. Morgan coughed a little. "And... voila."

The house was dark, only lit by the fading sunlight. The outline of the kitchen was made visible by the light shining through where the back door now hung by a single hinge. A chill went over Severa's body as she walked inside, only in part due to the cold. She felt her chest tighten. 

Morgan stepped in behind her and closed the creaking door. “Gods, a little dark in here with just the windows, don't you think? Wait, I know what to do...” She walked over to a cupboard in the kitchen. Severa's eye darted towards the living room past the kitchen. She walked slowly towards it, her feet weighed down by the metal in her boots. The house was dusty and unkempt, but it was still uncannily frozen in time. A shelf full of books. A wooden rocking chair. Morgan's childish drawings strewn about. War medallions.

A rotting oil portrait of a young family hung above the fireplace. The father stood tall in a black coat and golden armour, holding his red-haired infant daughter in his arms. The eldest daughter stood in the front wearing a dull pink dress, a girl who had been scarred, but had no inkling of what was coming. The mother clutched her falcon knight helmet, scarlet hair in a bun, her eyes burning with expectation.

Flashing memories cut through Severa's consciousness like a strobe. The girl in the pink dress now stood in breeches and a loose shirt, armed with a wooden training blade. To the stark-eyed woman standing before her, it made perfect sense to start them young.

Another scene, the parents talking to other adults, boasting about their children's talents in the arcane, athletics, academics. All eyes were on the child of the brave war hero and the brilliant strategist. But her parents had nothing to say.

The girl was articulate for her age, and had much to later articulate to her parents. Would they not accept her for who she was, rather than trying to groom her into a younger version of their vain selves? They could accept Morgan just fine, but being the oldest comes with burden.

The girl lay on the ground in the dirt in the yard, rubbing her bruised arm, trying to pick herself up from the mud that weighed her wet clothes down to the earth. Her mother stood over and watched as she struggled.

“Hey, are you okay over there?” Severa quickly turned away from the portrait.

Morgan stood in front of her, carrying two plates, each with a bit of fire trapped underneath a glass sitting on top. “Ta-da, makeshift lanterns,” she said, sheepishly.

“...Thanks.” Severa scoffed as she took one from her sister's outreached hand.

“All right, I guess I'll go upstairs. I might just skip our room since we know there's nothing in there.”

“Okay. Just make it quick, got it?”

“I know, I know, we've gotta be home by sundown. I just have a good feeling we'll find something here, you know?”

“Well, yeah. But what happened the last time you went with your gut?”

“Hey man, they didn't die though, remember?”

“Well, I'm sure Brady would've appreciated not running around on the brink of death trying to heal four people at once because you decided to 'go with your gut'”

“...The guy needed more experience, okay?”

“Oh, so we're doing the Mom way of teaching people now, are we?”

“Severa, shut up! We have to focus, remember? You said it yourself.” Morgan said as she looked her sister dead in the eye. “I'll go upstairs to check our parents' room and Isadora's suite.”

“Isadora?”

“You don't remember our housekeeper?”

“Not really. I was never really in the house much to begin with anyway.” she said, dismissively.

“Huh, I'd always figured that you'd remember her better given that you were the oldest.”

Severa sighed. “Well, excuse me if I happen to remember the time before we needed our housekeeper to fucking babysit us while our parents were off getting killed because some Exalt was more important than we were!”

“Okay, so we're slandering the dead now are we?” Morgan inquired.

“Alive, dead, I don't give a shit! They abandoned us, and I can't believe that you've chosen to just turn a blind eye and pretend that nothing's wrong!” She was shouting at that point.

“Okay then! Just for that, I'm sending you downstairs! We can get more done if we split up.” Morgan said firmly.

It had just dawned upon Severa that they had been standing in front of the door to the basement this whole time. The basement was where their father's study was situated. In the past, they were welcome to come and visit, but in the last year of his life, the girls were barred from entering under any circumstances. After he'd left for his final mission, the study had been left untouched for years. Nobody, not even his closest friends, knew why.

Morgan took the key from her pocket. She held it between her thumb and index finger. She gave her a stern look.

“We won't be coming home empty-handed again. Just like you said, sis.”

Morgan unlocked the basement and left for upstairs. Her loud, quick, creaking footsteps grew quieter as she climbed the stairs.

Severa muttered a curse under her breath as she opened the door.

 


	2. Six Feet Under

It happened four years ago. Severa was twelve, Morgan was nine. It was a time that seemed far away in their young minds, but the monotony and stress of their lives had made it feel like it had happened the day before. The heavy rain pelted against the windows of the house as Morgan read her book in the living room and Severa organized her dolls on her shelf. Their father had been deployed a month ago, but the housekeeper looked after them after their mother died the year prior. Isadora was her name, but she was not one for conversing Severa and her sister. She was certainly more old-fashioned than their own parents, but she could be very stern and unapproachable. Severa never could decide whether she was worse than her mother had been in life or not.

While Morgan preferred to stay inside and study, Severa was more for going out to meet with her friends, a group which included none other than the young princess of Ylisse. However, the rain continued to pour down from the heavens. “No”, Isadora would scold her. “A proper young lady does not go out into the rain! Your dress will get dirty, and you will look like an ugly witch! Also, you will become sick in this weather.” Severa usually just snuck out to see her friends, but wet clothing would give her right away. And since Isadora's punishments for rule breaking could become more severe than a simple grounding, Severa found herself stuck inside the house, wasting away until the storm stopped.

The time slogged on by throughout the house as she wandered around the still sanctuary of her room. Several china dolls decorated the shelves, all different sizes, all wearing beautiful dresses, a thin layer of dust blanketing them. Out of sight and in a drawer were still the broken pieces of one of her favourites. Her parents were hesitant to buy them for her at first, but she was always careful with hers. But for what? she pondered. She did her best to take care of them, but that doll still fell over in an earthquake some time ago and smashed into sharp white fragments. And even then, she still grew up in the end. The rest of the dolls just sat in their places for years to be faded by the exposure to light and to collect dust. What was the point?

She just wanted to go outside and get out of her room. She wanted to see her friends. She wanted to meet up with Lucina, Gerome, hell, she even wanted to meet up with Laurent. Anything just to break her out of this dragging, dreary trance as the rain grew heavier and heavier and the windows were hit by the rain so hard that it seemed as though they were going to crack...

It was the scream of a middle-aged woman that caught her off guard. Strange, Isadora was known to be quite stone-faced. It couldn't have been a spider or a mouse. Severa put whatever she was doing at the time down to investigate. The wooden boards creaked as she walked down the stairs. She could hear nothing but the sound of the crashing storm. She tiptoed down the stairs. The kitchen came into view through the railing.

She tiptoed down the stairs. The kitchen came into view through the railing.

Blood.

Dark, thick blood on the white tile.

A pale hand lay lifeless behind the counter.

Severa choked back the vomit coming up her throat as she stumbled back up the stairs.

Panic. She cried out for her sister.

She was pale and shaking. Her hands were sweaty. Tears stung her eyes.

“Morgan?”

Her eyes darted around the upstairs. Her little sister was gone.

She cried out into the night. Through the whistling and booming storm not a voice could be heard.

“MORGAN!!”

She stumbled around the hallway, disoriented and faint.

Her heart was pounding. Her breathing was shallow.

"...Morgan?"

Suddenly, she broke out of her state.

Her face was still sticky with salty tears. Her body was tense. She turned around. She couldn't remember why.

The glaring, intense violet eyes of the young girl standing in front of her blinded her.

And just like that, it was the last thing she could recall.

The room was dark. She had no idea where she was. She woke up in a large bed, to Lucina's aunt sitting next to her and crying hot, heavy tears simply because she was alive. She was still wearing one of her gauntlets and her armoured crinoline. Morgan was out cold in the one beside her, head and hands wrapped in bandages. A younger, blonder Owain sat anxiously in a wooden chair by her side.

The exalt's stern lieutenant would soon be the one to inform her that his liege and her father were both dead.

* * *

The door slammed behind so hard that Severa dropped Morgan's makeshift lantern down the stairs. The plate shattered loudly on the floor, the flame disappearing into the air when the glass broke. “Ahhhh, shit!” She muttered. The pieces bounced down the steps. However, to Severa's surprise, the stairwell wasn't completely dark.

As she stepped down, she as she could see light coming from down below. How could that be? She made her way down, the musty smell of the basement wafting over. It was surreal walking down into the study, she had visited it often when she was a young girl, but once her mother was killed in combat, he shouted at her and told her to go back upstairs. He was a man too absorbed in his work for sure, but it was very rare that he wold ever snap like he did. It scarred her deeply, and she never went down again out of fear, a fear that still subconsciously lingered in her heart. Severa drew her sword in case she had to defend herself, and silently made her way down the stairs.

She came across a lamp in front of the door, the same idea as Morgan's, except with lightning trapped in the glass instead of fire. Father. Of course that's where she picked it up, she thought. Morgan was always a real daddy's girl, even when he was cold and withdrawn, she still tried to act as though nothing was wrong. Poor Morgan, she suddenly thought. Dad's death must have hit her real hard, harder than it had hit her. She shook herself out of it. Gotta stay focused. She'd make up with Morgan later.

The thoughts of her sister were just enough to distract her from more painful memories until the door was completely ajar. Tons of lanterns flooded the room with light, illuminating a desk with maps strewn about it. Ink bottles were spilt long ago, staining the papers with a cold blackness. It was the same study for sure, but it was the most disorderly she'd ever seen it. Books were pulled off shelves and never replaced, having fallen onto the floor. A wooden globe was knocked onto the ground. Perhaps the most disturbing feature of all was the was the great map of Plegia nailed onto the wall, arrows and plans scratched out, and shaky, black gibberish scribbled onto the maps. She turned her head away. Focus. Focus.

She recognized some of the books strewn across the floor to be combat tomes, with still a good amount of usage in them. She picked them up, refolded them, and placed them next to the door. Many were thunder tomes.

The demonic text on the walls drew her away from the task at hand, the mess caving in on her in the small room. She couldn't stop herself from getting sentimental and breaking focus. No. Stop, she told herself. Do it quickly and get out of here. The strewn contents and disarray of the room loomed overhead, the chaos spilling into her brain. No. Stop. Please. Focus.

She decided she would look at one more wall and then meet Morgan on the ground floor, it wasn't perfection, but it was what could get done in the time she had. She got down on her hands and knees. It was difficult looking for books that weren't torn or stained by ink. The only other things in the room were crumpled, indecipherable papers and other things that did nobody back at the camp any good. Nothing worked in here, it was all the same, hell, there were hardly even any people left that could use magic! There was just Morgan and Laurent as far as she knew, what was the point of even coming down here? There couldn't be anything useful in this gods-damned study, like food, or even a weapon that normal people used! We could do a lot better if we could find a sword, or a bow, or a--

A lance.

There it was. The one pristine wall in the whole study. More than a dozen lanterns framed its mounting on the wall. The red and white flag on the end meant that it could have only belonged to one person. Blood stained it in various places, a bit near the head was that of her enemies, a great splotch on the wood handle was that of her own. It was sharp, lean, and commanding. A torch not meant to be taken up by Severa. She lifted it off the stand. She felt like a grave robber.

As she lifted it, a shelf was knocked over by its long end. Severa jumped back in alarm. Books came crashing down. Some lanterns were knocked over, their bolts dissipating into the air, some burned the books slightly. One hit the end of the lance and tore the flag off, leaving it to fall crumpled and burned onto the stone floor. Now the lance looked just like any other lance. Severa sighed slightly, but her heart was heavy with guilt. Ambivalent and conflicting feelings filled her mind. She should just go. Now.

She tried to run back to he stairs, but cursed as she tripped over the pile of fallen books. The mess was too much to bear, she struggled to get up. She paused and looked at what she'd tripped over. It was a larger book, handwritten, interestingly enough. She skimmed the page that was open a bit, may as well see what this thing is about...

_4th of March A. C. Rex 10_

_Today Cordelia and I took the children to the royal opera. Morgan has been too young for it in the past, but this is her first time going. She was truly as excited as Sev is to show her around. Fortunately, she's heard the story of Eliwood and the knights of Elibe before, so she was able to enjoy it well enough. It was quite adorable when she had to ask why Hector and Lyndis didn't get married in this particular retelling, I had to tell her that sometimes, people just change things in their version of the story. Maybe that's why I enjoy these old folktales so much, the characters are always set in stone, but what happens to them is actually quite malleable. I suppose people are like that, too._

_I enjoy these times as well because it's a place where Severa can finally come into her own. Her and Lucina are becoming very good friends lately, I wonder if_

Severa snapped the book shut. Holy shit it's a journal. She looked at the cover. It was a weathered book and it seemed quite old, especially if it was being used all the way back during the reign of Exalt Chrom. She felt strange holding it in her hands. In it were potential things that she never knew, things to discover. But... did she really want to? She flipped through the pages and skimmed the dates. It had seemed as though he only wrote when he felt he needed to, so they spanned a long time. Nearly 20 years, in fact, longer than she'd even been alive. It had gone up until when Mom abandoned them. When Mom died. That mysterious window where she hardly saw him at all. Her heart sank. She couldn't bear to. She went to put the book down, when suddenly...

“Sev?”

Severa jumped. “Jeez Morgan!”

“Gah! Sorry! I-- I'm sorry, Severa. That's what I came down here to say. Sorry for snapping. And for sending you down here.”

“...I'm sorry too. Sorry for setting you off.”

Morgan sighed. She looked around. “Well, this place sure is... interesting. And I see that you made some progress. Old Thunder tomes, still in good condition, nice, and, ohh! A lance! Where in blazes did you find this thing, anyway?”

Severa looked away. “That's not important.”

“Hey, what have you got there? Is it another tome?”

“Uh...”

“Hey man, let me see!”

“Fine, I guess. It's not anything super important, really--”

Morgan flipped through the pages. Her eyes widened as she searched through.

“Sweet Naga...” she whispered. “Do you... Do you realize what you just found?”

Gods dammit.

“This... this is amazing! Oh, gods, we need to read this!! Sev, do you realize how hard-pressed I've been for entertainment lately? I've been stuck with nothing but that old tactics textbook for months now. This is gold!!”

Severa wanted to take the book away. She wanted to snap it out of her sister's hands and toss it away to be eaten by moths. She wanted absolutely nothing to do with those memories of a split and broken family that scraped at her mind as though the world wasn't already bleak enough.

But then there was Morgan. How her eyes had lit up like the electric lanterns surrounding them in the room. She hardly had a hint of Severa's disdain and aversion. While she would normally be the type to scoff at such blind optimism in the past, something about Morgan's happiness through it all became a light in the dark tunnel that was their world.

"I... I guess if it makes you happy, you can take it back with everything else." 

And Severa would have been fine with it all, had Morgan not been so keen to read her various books out loud for all, including her, to hear in the past. 

Severa felt a lump sinking into her chest as her sister tucked the book into her large coat pocket. The two went upstairs and gathered all that they had found in their house together into a small wagon from when they were children. They soon were on their way to the refugee camp as the sun set without any interruptions but the constant dread of what was in that book.

They each took a lamp, and they were on their way.

 


	3. Old Flames

The theater was alive with the flickering of the candles and lamps. Bows moved up and down in the orchestra pit, the vibrations filling the space with a warm sound as the women danced on the stage like waves in the water, surrounding the leading lady, a short, but elegant woman with the voice of a beautiful siren. Severa sank into her exquisite velvet chair, her pink silk taffeta dress coolly touching her legs. She looked over instinctively to her left. Lucina stared in awe at the spectacle before them.

She beckoned Severa to hear her, “This is my favourite part,” she said, giggling with excitement.

Suddenly, a spotlight was cast on the balcony across from them. A pained tenor note rang throughout the theater. The audience gasped beneath them.

“Oh my gosh, it's the king! He was there the whole time?”

Lucina laughed. “I thought you'd like it. Now you understand why we keep talking about this show, right?”

“Oh man, I hope the rest of it is this good.”

“It's the best seats, too.”

“I know! It's so great up here in the box with--”

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh.”

It was Severa's stern mother.

“Severa, _keep it down_. We need to be on our best behaviour. We are guests.”

“...Sorry.”

She went back to watching the play. It was hard to focus knowing that her mother was right behind her, silently judging her all the way through.

“Hey,” whispered Lucina. “After the show is done, when our parents are talking, I want to show you something.”

Severa nodded with excitement.

The opera ended on a tragic note, the evil king was slain, but at the cost of the hero's best friend. The diamond-clad bard talked on and on about his plight, perhaps going on for a little bit too long. “Owain has totally memorized this entire soliloquy. I kind of like his version better.”

The orchestra played the final chord, and the entire audience stood up to clap. The roar filled the room as Severa became more aware of her parents and Lucina's royal family towering over her.

Many elaborately dressed people walked by in the lobby, discussing many elaborately boring things. The two girls' parents were no exception, as they discussed politics or something equally as uninteresting. Lucina tapped Severa on the shoulder. “Follow me. This is the fun part.”

Lucina took her hand and the two ran off back to the orchestra doors.

The two burst in. All that could be heard were the muffled noises of the people in the lobby, along with the footsteps of a poor man and an older boy as they walked around the theater, putting out the lights with a long gaff.

Severa looked at the ceiling above the grand crystal chandelier, painted with soft, pastel images of gods and dragons. “It's so empty in here,” said Severa, stating the painfully obvious out of lack of better words. She looked at the two people putting out the lights. “Who are they?”

“That's Josef, he's a gaffer. They're in charge of all the lights in here. The other one is called the best boy, I think he's his apprentice. I've seen him practicing fire magic and making lights out of it.” Lucina's eyes lit up as bright as the chandelier. “This isn't even the best part. Come on, there still might be people backstage!”

Severa grabbed her hand as they ran towards a door at the side of the house. She didn't even realize it was there.

The hallways were dark and candlelit. Stagehands in simple, dark clothing rushed by on their own errands. One man stopped. “Ah, princess! So good to see you, yes? Did you like show?”

Lucina laughed. “Of course I did! Your work on the sets was incredible, I love seeing everything you do here.”

The man let out a big hearty laugh. “We love seeing you here with us! And you bring along friend this time!”

“Yes, this is Severa! She's my best friend.”

“Ah, well enjoy tour of backstage, no? I must say goodbye, stupid actors leave props all over dressing room, yes?”

“Of course! Goodbye!” Lucina whispered to Severa. “We're going to follow him. Don't say a word.”

Severa winked in return.

They went through the narrow corridor, the sour smell of sweat and heavy perfume filled the hazy air. It was dark and musty, wooden scaffolding making up the walls. Nothing like the majesty of the outside world. “Oh man, this is great. we can't get caught here, though.” Lucina whispered.

They peered in through the wooden doorway, The room was full of life, the sound of gossip, laughter, loathing, and love filled the room. Performers were scrambling around, some still in costume, some in simple street clothes with heavy makeup still plastered on their faces, some wearing hardly anything at all.

“Hey, look, it's the mage prince!” Severa whispered. There he was, still dressed in a brooding black, removing his crown from his coronation in the final scene. Then he pulled out some pins in his hair. Or, her hair rather. Long blonde locks fell out of tight rolls at the back of her head as she shook them out nonchalantly.

“Oh my gosh, they were a girl the whole time!” Lucina exclaimed.

"I can't believe she hid all her hair like that! I should learn how to do that." said Severa.

Suddenly, a boy about their age started walking towards them. They hid behind the doorway.

"That's the lead's kid. We should probably get out before his mom finds out we were snooping."

As Lucina said this, the boy peered right over her shoulder right into Severa's eyes.

They ran towards the door.

They pushed through the crowds, giggling. Soon, they caught up with their families amidst the chaos, ushers desperately trying to clear patrons out of the crowded lobby. There was no way Severa was going to tell them that she just spent the last twenty minutes peeping at a dressing room full of half-naked women, but fortunately, they paid no mind as always, and they shuffled along with everybody else towards the door, still talking to Lucina's parents.

Lucina walked over to Severa as they all made their ways toward the exit. “You know,” she said. “I really want to be an actor when I grow up. I want to become all these different people, go on exciting adventures, live the life of a performer.”

Severa looked on at her intently.

“I'm a princess though. Princesses can't be actors. They have to be leaders. I have a role and I'm not allowed to pick anything else.” She took a breath. “The worst part is everything I'm learning now is only going to be real life when my father dies. It's like a constant reminder that he's going to die someday.I know that that's not going to happen for a long time, but...”

Severa took her hand. “Hey, at least we get to see plays from the best seats, right?”

“Right...”

“And if all goes wrong, you can just act your way out, pretend you're a leader, right?

Lucina smiled. “You're right, Severa.”

“Severa!” It was her father calling. “We need to get home to Morgan, it's getting late.”

“Okay!” She looked back at Lucina.

“Thanks for showing me backstage, Luci.”

“I'm glad you liked it.”

Lucina smiled. She didn't realise it at the time, but when Severa looked back, she would soon realise that she was looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.

* * *

 

The blood red sky illuminated the gloomy camp of refugees and soldiers. It was a shabby village of tents pieced together from scraps of shelters that may have once been adequate for the weather, gaps filled in by the unwearable clothing of the dead. Civilians huddled together for warmth to protect themselves from the cold darkness that had already started to fill the eastern part of the sky. Young children coughed, their mothers and fathers unsure if they were to make it through the night. Severa passed stale bread around to the people, trying to avoid their eyelines. The less she knew them, the less upsetting it would be when they would inevitably pass on into the talons of Naga.

She went along with the duty that Lucina had assigned her. Hand them the food. The person takes the food. Say “Here's your food”. Reach into the basket for more food. Repeat for next person who needs food. Severa's stomach started to growl.

She handed half a piece of bread to a new person. However, a wrinkled hand pushed it back. “No, I mustn't”, said a soft voice. Severa looked down at her.

It was an elderly woman, a scarf tied around her head, her ghostly pale skin drooping off her face. Her wide eyes were clouded and grey. “You take it, sweetheart. You and the rest of the Shepherds do so much for us.”

“Ma'am, you know none of us can eat until every civilian has gotten something first. It's the rules.” Severa said coldly. “Giving away your ration isn't good for you either. Eat up.”

“Oh, but I insist.” Her voice was light, it sounded like powdered sugar tasted. She was so weak and fragile, she would surely die if she skipped even a day of eating.

“I'll eat at the end of the day, I promise. Hey, we just found some canned food in town, so we should all be able to eat for at least a few more days now.” She gave the bread to her.

“Bless you, dear Severa. You're nearly as kind as your poor mother was.”

She inhaled. “Yep.” She kept moving on with her business.

“Severa, Severa!”

She was interrupted by an energetic voice that could have only belonged to Lucina's little sister.

“What is it, Cynthia? Does Lucina need me?”

“She sure does, I can take over rations duty for ya!”

“Be my guest. You're better than me at it anyways.”

How she could still be so upbeat and sunny during such a dark time was absolutely beyond her. There was no time for pondering that, though. She had her right-hand man duties to attend to.

She walked through the haphazard network of really shitty tents, all Kjelle's fault. She was a fine soldier but had no regard for order or protocol. If they ever had to abandon camp, she'd get Laurent or Morgan to make the layout instead next time. Leading and delegating seemed to be a lot of trial and error learning. None of this disorder would have to happen if her perfect and dependable parents were around to do it correctly the _first_ time. Why did she have to step up to the plate to help out Lucina? It's not like she wasn't embarrassing herself enough around her.

She pushed the canvas curtains apart, walking into the candlelit officer tent. The new Shepherds weren't much for tradition, but they had an extra tent, so it may as well have been used for something. Lucina sat on her rickety cot, her face in her hands. Severa walked towards her, subconsciously swaying and lowering her stance. She picked up on her change of posture as Lucina looked up, instantly straightening herself out. “You called for me, Captain?”

“We can skip the formalities for tonight, Severa.” She stared blankly at the wall.

“Of-- Of course.”

“I called you in because I can't talk to you about this while the others are around.”

“...Yes.” Severa hid the weakness in her knees by sitting in a nearby chair.

“You see... I just don't know if all these people can make it the rest of the month. It's grim, but it's true.”

“The food Morgan and I picked up wasn't enough, I take it,” Severa said sullenly.

“We just keep finding refugees, but I don't know if we can take care of them for much longer. They aren't combat trained either, and even if we could give them some of our arms, there are still the ones who couldn't defend themselves even if they tried.” She blinked. A small tear rolled down her still face. ” I... I just don't know if I can keep up. Even with you here, the odds are just stacked against us, with the stakes too high. I haven't slept in a week, when I have been I've been having horrible nightmares that I can't even describe, I just... I don't know.”

Severa's job was clear. She was to state the obvious when her captain was clouded by the stress of leadership. She placed her hand on her shoulder.

“Luci, you're doing everything you need to be doing right now.”

“But--”

“Butts are for sitting! You're our leader, and you're going to rise up to the challenge like the badass you are, whether you like it or not! I don't know about you, but when I look out there, I see about two dozen people that adore you and would follow you to the end of the earth! They think you're amazing!”

“But that's exactly the problem!” Lucina exclaimed. She looked right at Severa. “I may come off as a hero, but it's so draining. I don't even know how the rest of the Ylissean leaders kept up with the demand. I can barely even take care of some refugees and a handful of soldiers--”

“Hey, shush for a sec, okay? You remember your aunt, right? Emmeryn?”

“Somewhat.”

“The lady came into power when she was nine years old! She took your grandad's horrible shithole of a country and guess what? She made it into something worth protecting. You've got eight more years of life experience on that girl. You can totally do it. _I_ know you can.”

Lucina looked at the wall again. “Right...”

“And you, being our fantastic leader of course, have the wisdom to trust me with getting those refugees trained to protect the weaker ones while you worry about bigger things.” Severa smiled.

“Yeah, I guess.” She paused. A slight smile crossed her lips. Like a butterfly, a rare, but beautiful sight. “Thank you, Severa.”

She reached over and hugged her. Her body was warm, her muscular arms wrapping around Severa, her soft chest against her heart. She lingered.

“Any time, Luci.”

Lucina broke the embrace.

“Did you find anything of interest besides food today? Might as well make some conversation.”

“Well, Morgan found a new book. That should keep us entertained, I guess. I also picked up some new tomes and a javelin.”

“Wow, that's actually quite impressive! I wonder if any of the villagers are actually literate enough to use any of the tomes.”

“They're all pretty high-level, so they might be better suited for Morgan or Laurent. They can always use our old ones.”

“Where did you find all these things anyway?”

Severa hesitated. “Just... you know, a house. Probably belonged to a soldier.”

“I see.” said Lucina.

A thought crossed Severa's mind. “Hey, do you remember going to the opera? When we were kids?”

“...Yes, I do remember that. Gods, it feels like it was so long ago.”

“We used to want to be like those heroes so much.”

“...Yeah, I suppose so.”

“I guess now's as good of a time as ever to be a hero.” Severa parted the curtains back. “Morgan and I will be on the night watch if you need us. Get some sleep tonight.”

“I'll try. Thank you again. For helping me out.”

“It's my job, Captain,” Severa smirked.

Severa made it over to the tree that acted as their watch tower. She climbed the big branches. Morgan was already sitting up at the top, tome in hand. “Hey sis! How was hanging out with Lucina?” Morgan raised her eyebrows.

“Gods Morgan, can you keep it down? You should know better than yelling out, begging the Risen to attack you.”

“Sorry man, just goofing around.”

Severa made it to Morgan's branch. “Morgan... you know that it's... harder with Lucina, right?”

“What, because of the whole both being girls thing? I don't think it's too out there. I'm pretty sure there was once a lady in Roseanne who got denied a marriage license to her pet wyvern.”

“Okay, first of all, that was a rumour from like, twenty years ago. Second, not everyone thinks the way you do, Morgan.”

Morgan sighed. “Right.”

“I just don't think it could ever work out. The whole working relationship we have is too strong and important to jeopardize with something like that.” She sighed. “And even in the off chance that it did work and she felt the same way, we could never do anything about it. Ylisse was a great place, but the people of it didn't recognize people that were... like me.”

“Well, it _is_ the apocalypse, who knows what would happen?”

Severa sighed. “Yeah, I guess you're right. But until I ever get the slightest feeling that she might also be, you know... into girls, I just need to suppress it as hard as I can. Yeah, that's it. Just turn it off.”

There was an awkward silence. They went back to their job of watching the horizon.

“You know, we could lighten up the mood with some... reading material?”

“Oh gods. You brought the journal with you, didn't you.”

“Hey man, night watch can get pretty dull sometimes. Who knows, there might be some useful information in here.”

“Yeah, useful if time travel was a thing that people could do,” Severa muttered.

“What?”

“Oh, nothing. Just read the book. I could use something to get my mind off... whatever it is I'm thinking about.”

 

 


	4. Death of the Author

“All right, entry number one,” Morgan said as she opened the book. “Hey, there's a picture of a lady on the first page! And she sure as hell doesn't look like Mom.”

“Oooh, scandalous.” Severa sneered. “Maybe mother wasn't the only one with badly-kept secrets.”

“Oh, wait a minute, next page says it's just his mother.”

“Bah, so boring.”

“We never did know our paternal grandparents, did we?”

“Mmm, the plot thickens,” Severa yawned. “Anyway, I didn't come here for commentary, I came for entertainment. Make it so.” She leaned on the tree trunk.

“Okay,” said Morgan. She started to read.

_June 22 nd, A. E. Regina 14._

_It looks like I've finally saved enough to get a new journal, the last one I had filled up after a few years, and I've been absolutely aching to write down some of the many things I've done. Bookkeeping can be a slog of a job, but once I can save enough to go back to the university for another year it will have been worth it. I remember the games of chess we would play. Another student would see me practicing at a table with a local, and they decide to challenge me._

_I never lose, of course. Some of the better sports say that I could even be a tactician. In the Ylissean army? Once they start to accept Plegian immigrants, perhaps. I far prefer chess either way. Nothing at stake but a couple of wooden pieces rather than_

“Holy hell on a stick Dad we get it you're very smart. Can you talk about something else please.”

“Hey, it's a first entry! I'm pretty sure he just wrote an obligatory page when he got the new book. Anyway, continuing.”

_I suppose I can owe my success at the game to my mother. Haven't seen her since I was fourteen, when she first gave me this journal. Has it truly been seven years already? It certainly feels like ages since I was fourteen, but at the same time, I feel as though she left just yesterday. She worked in the capital for some time as a secretary, that's what she told me anyways. On that particular day, though, she told me to run. She didn't tell me why. Just to get as far from the capital as possible. She gave me a journal, a quill, and a few gold to pay for a carriage to the port town of Abel. I remember that it was raining. I took her cloak that hung on the hook by the door. It's all I have left of her to this day. I must say that it does fit a lot better now, though. It's wool too, good quality._

Morgan smiled as she straightened her black embroidered cloak. “Survived the apocalypse too, heh.”

_**S** ometimes I lay awake in this small room, not only due to the rowdy bar patrons downstairs. I wonder why she left so soon, why she told me t **o g** o. I suppose I'll never know. I may as well paste in this portrait I drew of her long ago. _

_I can fend for myself for the most part, fortunately. I've got a menial job, a goal in my life, some food in my belly and a roof over my head. I suppose all I need now is a wife, a horse, and some extra money to go around, heh._

_July 6, A. E. Regina 14._

_I write today about grand news, I think I may have finally saved enough to go to the university for another year. I'm so excited at I can finally learn about ing and athematics_

_or rom_

_ni_

_rt_

_fe_

_r_

_st_

_b l_

 

_f_

_February 31, A. S. Regina XX_

_Today was the day that I decided to cut off any and all communication with all my remaining family. My wife is dead so this is a great time to lock myself in a basement and sulk while my two daughters do whatever they do, just as long as they don't burn the house down. We never wanted this family anyway, so we just never bothered to raise them. Luckily we have an actual witch around to do all the dirty work so that me and my dead wife can get back to our army jobs away from_

“Hey Sev, wake up!”

Severa snapped awake. Suddenly the slightly out of character journal entry made sense.

“Ah dammit, I fell asleep on night watch.”

“You just missed some good parts. It was all very riveting indeed, too bad I don't feel like reading them again, so I guess you never will know the story about the runaway chicken.”

“Wait, there was a runaway chicken?”

“See? You missed it because you fell asleep! Nah, but seriously, it's okay. We can just sleep in shifts so long as one of us is awake. You do know that you're not expected to stay up _all_ night, right?”

“Yeah? Well, I... er... I just.... shut up!”

Morgan laughed. “It's all right,” She said. “You can wake me up if you feel tired again. It's about teamwork, not ego.”

“Whatever, you weirdo.”

“Oh look who's talking you bloody-- Wait a minute, hang on.” Morgan's eyes darted around the premises. A faint rustling came from the bushes. “There! Did you hear that?”

“It may be the apocalypse, Morgan, but squirrels do still exist, for your much-needed information.”

“I dunno, squirrels sure don't moan like that.”

A deep sound rumbled throughout. A purple haze glowed unnaturally in the distance.

“They sure don't glow like that either.” Severa brandished her sword.

“You go investigate. I'll get help and then join the fray.” She pulled out an Arcthunder. Her hand glowed, bright, blue sparks jumping between her fingers like fleas.

“ _Please_ keep that thing away from my metal sword.”

“On it, lieutenant.”

They jumped down from their post. Morgan ran back towards the camp. Severa quickly tiptoed forward. She halted behind a tree. She caught her breath. She turned her head around slowly to see what was behind.

A hideous sight. Revenants, four or five of them. Disfigured creatures coming up from the muddy, poisonous earth. They were horrible looking, but they were all bark and no bite. No match for someone like her. As she looked closer, she noticed with a wrenching horror that one was attacking an unarmed lady.

She was wounded badly, a strange glowing liquid spattered all over her, punching and kicking her way out to no avail. She had to act. Fast.

Severa lunged out of the bushes, slashing into its back.

A horrible, steamy slime hissed and bubbled as it gushed from its rubbery carcass, the putrid aroma made her eyes water as it collapsed into the ground.

She ran to the woman. She was on her knees, struggling to get up. Severa stuck her sword out at the monsters surrounding them. They were all about ten feet away. There was still time to escape. “Get back to our camp,” She said, looking over her shoulder. “I'll take these jerks from here.”

“No,” panted the lady, surprisingly calm about the whole situation. “Get my stone, it's in that one's mouth!” She pointed towards one of the monsters. A blue glow emanated from its cloth jaw. The rest of them slowly continued to close in. There wasn't much time.

“...Okay, I'll trust you.”

Severa jumped at the revenant while the lady crawled to safety. She pierced its torso with her sword. She stuck her hand into its slimy throat. She felt around inside. The thing was just warm, rotting flesh. The acidic, harsh smell reminded her of vomit and mould. It barely even had a throat, it was more like sticking her hands in a pile of maggots.

Suddenly through her leather gloves, she felt something. Something cold and hard.

She yanked her hand out of the monster as it collapsed to the floor. The stone shone a brilliant blue through all the black muck on her arm. This was it.

“Heads up!”

Severa tossed it over to where the lady was standing. The revenants continued to move toward her.“Get back to the camp!” She shouted. “It's just north of--”

Suddenly, a great white light blinded everything in sight.

Severa shielded her eyes. A shockwave burst through the area. The revenants stopped in their tracks.

What on Naga's green earth could it have been that set off the--

No... it couldn't be...

A great white dragon sprung from the earth, its skin almost transparent, glowing with a divine white energy from its veins. Its torn wings spanned nearly twenty feet. It was a beautiful sight, in its majestic divinity.

A manakete, of course. Never in her life did she think she'd see a full-blooded one.

As it flew, its blue firey breath obliterated every single revenant in its sight, one by one. Each one exploded from the sheer heavenly force of its icy breath. She was free and about to become the latest addition to their team.

Suddenly, a fat drop of rain landed on Severa's head. She instinctively touched the cold wet spot on her head.

As she pulled her hand down, she realized that it was not raining. It was the same glowing fluid that the manakete was covered with in her human form.

She noticed the fluid continuing to drip from gashes in its side. The fluid was blood.

Suddenly, the dragon cried in pain. A revenant out of sight had slashed its neck with its claws.

Severa screamed.

She sprinted. One good slash and the revenant's head came clean off. Adrenaline was pumping through her veins. She diced it to pieces. She diced until there was nothing left to cut. The dragon landed on the ground with a great thud. She reverted back to her human form. She lay on the ground.

Another one wasn't far behind. She ran right up to it and turned it to a pile of mush in a single hit.

She ran over to the lady. The bruises on her skin glowed bright green, she was covered in her own icy blood. Severa fell to her knees.

“Oh gods.”

Morgan ran up to the scene as fast as she could. “I informed Lucina, she's right behind me.” She looked at the lady. “Oh no,” She said gravely. “What... what happened?”

Severa didn't even look up. “Risen.”

“What can we do?”

“I... I don't know,” she quivered.

Lucina stepped through the brush. “Oh gods, is that... No! Tiki!”

Lucina darted over. She pushed Severa and Morgan aside. “Tiki, speak to me!” She shouted through tears, “What is going on?”

Tiki's eyes flickered open. “Lucina...” She smiled weakly.

“Oh, thank the gods you're alive! What are you doing here?”

“You've grown into such a fine young lady since I last saw you... You even look just like him...”

“Tiki, you're going to be okay, all right? We can get you back to camp! We can heal you. If you could just let us carry--”

“No.”

“...No?”

“Lucina... I need to give you a message... Naga spoke to me.”

“Naga...” Lucina looked to the sky. “What did she say?”

“She said--” Tiki started to cough up blood.

“Tiki, what did she say? Speak to me!”

“She said...” She coughed again.

“Tiki!”

“...Get... stones... go.... back and save...” She wheezed. “save the timeline...”

“Tiki, I don't understand...” she said, barely keeping herself together. “Which stones?”

“...The stones... the Fire Emblem...”

“Tiki... You're going to be okay... you're going to be okay!” Tears were streaming down her face.

She stroked Lucina's face. “...Don't cry...Mar...”

“No,”

Her hand went limp. Her eyes were glazed.

“...Tiki?”

Lucina hesitated in disbelief. She closed them with her hand.

She stepped away from the body. Her eyes were red.

“...We need to go back to camp.” She said, sternly. ”We'll bury her when the sun comes up.”

Severa put her hand on Lucina's shoulder. They stood silently for a while. Morgan left to continue the nightwatch.

As soon as she left, Lucina bawled into Severa's arms until the stars disappeared into the west.

Severa wanted to cry. But she felt like she couldn't. She didn't know Tiki like Lucina used to, she had only failed to save her. And now she paid rightly for it. So she stayed stoic for her. It's not like she hadn't done it before. It was her job.

The dragonstone, now dull and black, served as a small marker on her shallow grave.

The two of them walked back to camp, silent.


	5. Into Obscurity

Hasty footsteps pound on the stone as heavy panting grows weaker and weaker.

A cry for help echoes through an empty marble hallway, not a guard in sight.

A trail of blood is left on the floor despite all efforts.

A man collapses onto a pillar, disarmed by disorientation.

**A.E. REGINA XV**

His eyes began to flicker open. The environment had changed. It was a large stable, not a horse in sight. A shadow was cast over him. He began to panic.

Two hands held him down. He tried to break free, but he was still weak. He squinted, trying to make out the figure in front of him.

"Who are you?!" He shouted.

"Robin!" A girl's shaky whisper rasped. "It's okay, you're okay it's all going to be okay. You're- you're safe now."

He stared blankly at the girl.

"You- you remember me right? Lissa?"

He paused and pondered. It clicked. "Oh gods, how did I forget you? I'm so sorry."

"No no, it's okay."

Robin looked at his arm. It was covered in blood, bandaged all the way up to past his shoulder.

"What the hell happened to me?"

"I don't know, that's the scariest part," Lissa said, her fingers nervously dancing. "Oh, um, I did a little more reading in the past couple of days like you asked me to and, uh, apparently it's a symptom of brain damage. You know," She cleared her throat. "From your concussion?"

Robin sighed. "Great, brain damage. You have any idea if it's permanent?"

"Uh, I found accounts of pegasus knights that fell off their mounts and survived with memory and motor problems afterward, but if you lost the last two weeks... It was probably a  _really_  bad hit on the head. It could get better, it could stay the same, it could get worse."

"Well, I suppose that explains a lot of things." He looked down at his arm, and then to his shaking hand. It was no wonder he couldn't write like he used to, constant spelling errors that others would comment on, his handwriting like a drunkard. He remembered something. Abel. His journal was still there. Once he'd healed he could go back and find out- Hang on, something didn't seem right. "Why did you change the subject so suddenly?" He inquired.

Lissa turned white. "How do I... okay, I know I'm not supposed to do this when you're recovering from shock..." She took a deep breath. "We're under attack, remember?"

Robin tried to get up again.

"No, no, lay down!" She put her hands on his shoulders. "The spell takes half an hour to work and it's not  _going to_  if you keep fighting."

"But what about your sister?" He asked worriedly. "Aren't you worried about her?"

Her grip loosened. Her eyes darted to the door. "I think Chrom's got it under control. Phila too. I mean, we've been prepared for war with Plegia for months now." She looked back at him. "There's no way we can't handle what they've got, right?"

"Absolutely. And then once I've recovered, we can hop into the fray and we can divert our efforts to more pressing things."

"Yeah! Everything's under control!"

Suddenly, a giant beast crashed through the wall. Lissa screamed.

It was a massive monster with piercing violet eyes and long ears. Robin felt around for something either one of them could use to defend themselves with.

"Do not come any closer!" A disembodied woman's voice cried out as the beast backed away. The fur on its body turned to stone. The stone broke away as it revealed a strange-looking woman. She had the same long ears as the beast and animal-like features. And she was carrying someone on her back. She set the man down.

"Chrom!" Lissa grabbed her staff and ran over. She muttered some words as she cast a healing spell on her wounded brother. His blood stood out on his white cape. "What happened? Who are you? Why is he hurt?" Lissa cried.

Lissa grabbed her staff and ran over. She muttered some words as she cast a healing spell on her wounded brother. His blood stood out on his white cape. "What happened? Who are you? Why is he hurt?" Lissa cried.

The woman panted. She dropped to the ground. She had an arrow in her thigh. "Lissa, heal him now."

"How do you know my name?"

"That does not matter." She said. "Lissa... Your sister..."

"What about her?" She cried,"What happened?"

"Your sister... is dead."

* * *

_**15** _ _**th** _ _**of April, A.E Rejena 15** _

_A few hours ago, at aproximatly 2100, exalt Emmeryn, peaceful figure head and be loved queen of Ylisse, was asassinatd by an unknown group intent on waging war on the country._

_I never wold have predicted the turn of events that led me to meet her, making it all the more horifying that anyone would even think to commit such a horible, horible act. Lissa is in shambles, her brother is still unconsious._

_Nobody knows how we are going to tell him, much less who is going to have to do it._

_I can't know for sure, but I am to believe the attacker that wounded Chrom and I was the very assassin sent to kill her. How on earth could they have gotten to the exalt's chambers? One would think that there would be gards all around. It just doesnt make sense._

_**16** _ _**th** _ _**of April, A.E Regina 15 (0100)** _

_The enemy has retreated. Not all of the shepherds made it back. One was stahl. I didn't know him very well. He was Sully's best friend. The two were inseprable during our trips to Ferox._

_The other was perhaps even more tragic, a man I didn't even remeber meeting. Nobody knew him, in fact. He must have been a recrout that nobody had really gotten to know yet. He supposedly continued on fighting, protecting a gravely injured Miriel as she crawled away in search of refuge. He never stoped. By the time maribelle could even get to where he was, it was too dangerous, and too late._

_I can't help but feel angry. I knew for sure that my concusion didn't affect my decision making, I should've been out there. I could've helped. If we stayed within the castle and fought from within, maybe we couldve had a chance. I can't even think much farther ahead than that now_

_Nobody knows still who our attackers were. They had a flag that nobody recognized, Violet and black, they say. Apparently a couple of prisoners were captured, we'll see what they have to say about the matter in the morning, if anyone can even sleep._

_**(0230)** _

_I've tried to sleep. I can't stop thinking about the Exalt. About Stahl and the other soldier. Why is it that my memory acts up at the most inconvenient of times but never when I want to forget? There's nothing to do, nothing to plan, nobody to talk to around the castle. I'm not even going to bother finding a place to stay for the night, all the inns are full of people that were displaced by the attack. It's not like I'll get any rest anyway. I'm just going to take a walk and bring some paper along._

_The sky is clouded. The air smells of ash and soot, it reminds me of when I was young, my mother and Chiara and I around a camp fire while on the run before we finally came to Ylisse. Chiara was my baby sister. I think she was my sister, anyway. She had these big brown eyes, and the same white hair as me and mother, which she would almost always wear in little twintails. Even as a young child she was still fun to talk to and told all the funniest stories. My mother had to leave her at an orphanage because she couldn't afford to take care of both of us. I always liked to think that she got adopted by some wealthy family and lived a life that was better than mine. Any time I asked my mother about her though she'd refuse to talk about it. I used to think that she just didn't care about Chiara, but now I wonder if she just cared so much that she couldn't bear to have it brought up that she had to give up one of her own children._

_Perhaps I can attempt to practice handwriting so that the rest of my entries don't look like a_

_so they look like a functioning adult wrote them_

_The clever fox jumped over the_

_wait_

_The quick dog jumped over the brown_

_The quick brown dog jumped over the_

_gods dammit_

_The quick brown Fox jumped over the clever dog_

_The quick brown fox hopped over the_

_where the hell does the z go?_

_The quick brown fox jumped over the crazy dogs_

_The quick brown fox jumped over the hazy dogs_

_the quick brown fox jumped over the laz_

_I just found a torn flag on the ground. It appears to be the enemy's. Shit. It looks too familiar._

_The symbol on it matches the mark on my hand. I really did have something to do with this._

_Were they looking for me as well in this whole ordeal? I couldn't have been sent here, no way. Unless something happened in that window of time when I got a concussion. What on earth could have happened in three weeks? All I know is that I feel ungodly responsible right now._

_**(0300)** _

_I feel as though I should be selective about what I write in a seems awfully cowardly, but I get a horrible feeling that there are some things everyone, including myself, is better off not knowing. Perhaps the concusion was a blessing in disguise. Looking back, it seems as though I've forgotten meeting people several times already.I'll write more detailed notes from now on. For the people I want to remember, anyway._

_**(0400)** _

_Notes about the women:_

_Name: Cordelia Lear_

_Physical description: 5'7, Long, pin-straight red hair, dark slanted eyes, pale complexion_

_Occupation: Pegasus Knight_

_Age: 18-19 at youngest, likely early twenties?_

_Injuries: broken leg(s?)_

_Cordelia was stationed at the entrance of the capital tonight._ _I found her ducked in an alleyway. She was in great pain, but she did not cry. "Don't look at me," she said, defeated. I asked her what was wrong, her entire squad is dead. She was the only survivor. She needed help but she refused to let me. Weakness was a four letter word to her. The most I could do was sit with her, because somehow, I understood._

_I tell her about the deaths I could have prevented, had I not been carelessly stabbed I could have gone and told everyone to reposition themselves. I almost told her about the mark on my hand. About the flag. I bit my tounge. I just met this woman, she doesn't need to think that I'm a runaway assassin, or worse. Tense times can have people thinking in black and white. I grabbed a board from a ruined building. I asked her for her long gloves and I tied the board around for her. I don't claim to be a medical expert, but it was better than nothing._

_I wanted to offer to help her walk and get out of the filthy alley, but I hesitated. Neither of us were ready to go back. Both of us knew this. I write this as we sit in silence. One where both of us wanted to say something, but didn't know what. It was uncomfortable? I feel as though there's a better word to describe it, uncomfortable seems a bit harsh, I just can't recall it._

_**(0430)** _

_She finally piped up. "You said... carelessly... stabbed? That makes no sense."_

" _Did I?" Apparently I did._

" _Usually... you know... if a person gets stabbed, it isn't their own fault," she told me._

_I was about halfway to saying there was more to it than being stabbed, but then I thought a bit harder. I told her that it wasn't her fault that she survived either._

" _But you see, there was more to it than that," She said. She was starting to lose it. I swore I heard her say,"No, I can't cry in front of a stranger,"_

_I can't be sure if I said the exact right thing, or even a correct thing, but somehow she finally accepted my help as I walked her to the shepherds' barracks, the sun was rising overhead._

_**(0600)** _

_I was called in to a meeting. Nobody in the room had slept in 24 hours. It was filled with Ylissean generals and tacticians alike. Chrom sat at the head of the table. Never in my life have I seen a more broken man, staring off into space at nothing in particular, talking to no one. I walked up to him. Why did it all have to all fall on him? Just days ago he was a carefree young prince whose biggest concern was saving individuals from bandits. Now he's suddenly the ruler of one of the most influential countries in the world. He never even expected to become the ruler, his hopes were hinged on his sister marrying and producing an heir while he lived out his days protecting the people of his country in the only way he knew how: with steel. I remember him saying how e could never live up to her compassion and bravery. I worry for him._

_We are to interrogate the prisoners and find out where they hail from. By the end of the week we will have declared war on whoever sent the troops, hopefully before it is too late. They have the Fire Emblem, after all. Who knows what they will try to do with_

"Hang on, I thought this was supposed to take our minds  _off_ the recent tragedy."

Morgan looked up at Severa. The rain pelted downward as the two sat under a canvas tent, keeping them dry. "I mean... you only asked to stop now, didn't you? You've gotta admit, you were at least a little invested."

"I mean... I guess."

"Not a single quip from you this time around either, not even an 'Oh man, seriously? THAT'S how they met?'"

"I mean, okay, maybe I can kind of get behind that one part where they were talking it out in the alley if it was, like, in some sappy-ass romance novel. But, come on, Morgan, it's still  _our parents._  I don't care what the tragic backstory is, it still doesn't excuse how they raised us."

There was an awkward silence.

"How..." Severa felt her chest tighten. "How they raised  _me_."

"No, Severa, it's not about that. You never even  _saw_  how hard dad was on me with my studies. I'd say it was almost as bad as you made Mom out to be. Even when she was alive it wasn't all peaches and cream in Morganland."

"But did you ever think  _once_  that  _I_  was the favourite kid?"

"Don't be ridiculous, they didn't have  _favourites!"_

"Huh. Sounds to me like something a favourite kid would say."

"Why does everything have to be a competition to you?" Morgan asked, exhausted. "I just want to not fight for  _once_. I was thinking that, you know... living on our own... would give us a chance to start over, you know?"

"Well, news flash, kiddo. just because it's the apocolypse doesn't mean that the past died along with everything else too."

"I don't know... I..." Morgan started to break. "I just wanted to bond over something we both got, okay? Is that such a crime? To want to bond with your sister when you have no more blood relatives left?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She slumped onto a tree trunk, dumbfounded. She got Morgan's point of course, but did she really get  _hers_?

Just as this happened, Lucina walked over to where she was. "Severa?"

"Lucina!" She stood up. "I- I'm so, so sorry you had to witness that... uh..." Morgan was already walking away, probably to vent at Owain and Brady.

"Oh, er, don't worry about it," She said, probably feeling the wave of second-hand embarrassment. "I've gotten into my fair share of quarrels with Cynthia after all." She looked at her. "I came here to tell you something. We have a mission now, we need to find all five of the gemstones for the Fire Emblem."

She stood up. " Your family's old shield? I didn't even know that there were gemstones, " Severa pondered. "What the hell do we need them for?"

"To make a long story short, they have great magical power. More than any mage that has ever lived. In her final moments, Tiki appeared to be talking nonsense, but in reality, she was trying to tell me what to do with that power." She looked towards the journal, sitting open on the ground.

"I'm going to attempt to strike a bargain with Naga. But I'm going to have to borrow that book."


End file.
